


it's a kind of game

by bloodandcream



Series: The more the merrier [91]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Consensual Underage Sex, Cousin Incest, First Time Blow Jobs, Innocence, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-29
Updated: 2017-07-29
Packaged: 2018-12-08 13:53:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11647902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodandcream/pseuds/bloodandcream
Summary: “Can… can I play?” Hannah asks.“What do you think, Samandriel?”Eyes darting between the two of them as Hannah comes closer to look at what he’s doing properly, Castiel leans forward daringly and puts his mouth back on Samandriel’s cock.Clapping a hand over his wide open mouth, stifling his groan, Samandriel nods his head furiously.





	it's a kind of game

Wetness seeps through the knees of Castiel’s neat pressed slacks, his weight sinking into the soft clay bank of the small stream. The sun is warm against his back and the world is quiet around them but for the susurrations of insects in the brush and the occasional animal. Down a narrow unkempt path from the park, there’s this spot. His spot. Their spot. An old wooden bench leaning in the silt with faded green paint peeling off its slats.

Castiel has always come here to enjoy the solitude every time he’s dragged to the semi-annual family get-togethers that are overcrowded with old aunts pinching his cheeks and bad potato salad.

Samandriel has started coming down here, too, after following Castiel one year.

Hands spread on top of neat-pressed slacks, trembling slender thighs, Castiel eases closer, knees making sucker noises in the clay-earth as he does. His mother will punish him for getting his pants dirty, later, but she’ll only assume he was being a careless boy. Playing at being wild.

Biting his lip looking down at Castiel, Samandriel curls his hands into fists at his side, sitting stiff on the bench, wide eyed. It’s Castiel’s first time trying this. With his mouth, not just his hands. But, he’s practiced a few times with zucchinis and bananas purloined from the kitchen. He returns them everytime, of course, after washing them.

Samandriel isn’t nearly so big as a zucchini. It makes Castiel’s mouth water, more than food, this wanting, this thing he knows is abhorrent and sinful but it does. Stroking the length of it, looking, Castiel glances to his cousin’s eyes one more time before he licks it.

Just the tip. Tongue swiping across it and there’s a little clear liquid there tasting barely bitter.

“Oh my god,” Samandriel gasps.

He’s a year younger than Castiel. It doesn’t seem like much, but his parents are even more strict than Castiel’s. They live close enough for infrequent visits, outside the family gathering picnics, but Castiel doesn’t like going to their house. Everything in it place, crosses on the walls, there’s a pall in the house perfectly expressed in the stiff smile his mother holds in place every second.

Castiel kisses his cock, reaches out to take one of his hands and digs a finger into his palm to slowly uncurl fingers and bring it closer. Samandriel twitches, spread his fingers across Castiel’s cheek, warm and slight. Nodding, Castiel smiles and closes his lips around Samandriel’s cock, bobs down and sucks.

The sharp noise of a twig cracking nearby has both boys jerking up, alert.

“Oh.”

Just over the lip of the bank, their cousin Hannah stands with one hand on a tree as she balances where the path dips sharply, blue eyes blinking and she frowns, brow creased.

She can’t see much, if anything, Castiel reassures himself. He can barely see her face over the edge of the bench if he kneels up. His hand is still on Samandriel’s cock, and Samandriel is frozen stiff as a plank.

“Hannah. Hello.” Castiel says.

“Are …. you’re busy, I should go. I’ll go back.”

“Don’t!” Castiel cries.

Tensely, the three of them look at each other.

Samandriel’s lip quivers, wetness in his eyes. “Please don’t tell my dad!”

“What are you…” Hannah steps forward, footing giving out on the crest of the bank and with a cry she tumbles down on her butt. Standing, closer, she brushes off the back of her pleated skirt.

“We’re,” Castiel starts. “Have you ever… it’s. It’s a kind of game.”

Samandriel is still hard in his hand, and Castiel squeezes him. Gasping, swinging his round face and pink blotted cheeks back towards Castiel, Samandriel squirms.

“Can… can I play?” Hannah asks.

“What do you think, Samandriel?”

Eyes darting between the two of them as Hannah comes closer to look at what he’s doing properly, Castiel leans forward daringly and puts his mouth back on Samandriel’s cock.

Clapping a hand over his wide open mouth, stifling his groan, Samandriel nods his head furiously.

“Should I just… can I sit down?”

Castiel pulls off, nods at Hannah, watches her slowly round the bench and perch on the very edge of it. Ankles crossed, legs pressed neatly together, she smoothes her skirt over her thighs and clasps her knees, leaning forward she watches.

Something hot and shivery flutters in his belly and it feels just like the first time his cousin touched him - the first time anyone did - and Castiel knows that’s it’s bad but he’s not sure that he cares. Leaning forward, he takes Samandriel into his mouth again and slowly sinks all the way down.

His knees are wet through his pants and the sun is warm on his back, the stream burbling pleasantly behind them as he takes Samandriel all the way into his mouth and it isn’t nearly so much as he thought it would be but he feels a swell of pride nonetheless. It’s warm, and it pulses on his tongue like a thing alive on it’s own, so soft and responsive to every swipe of his tongue, every time he seals his lips tight and moves. It’s more than he ever expected.

Samandriel curls his fingers tightly in Castiel’s hair, squeezes as his hips shove off the bench, grinding against Castiel’s face. It floods his mouth with a bitter torrent. Coughing, it spills from Castiel’s lips and he swallows; somehow a bit of it gets up in his nose. That’s unpleasant.

He hears Hannah, beside them, breathing heavily as she watches, the rustle of her clothes as she shifts her skirt up.

Castiel licks his cousin clean, nuzzling against the inside of Samandriel’s warm thighs and buttoning his pants up again.

“That was, can we do that more?” Samandriel asks, quiet and hopeful.

Castiel nods, pushes up off his knees and eyes his pants ruefully. “Of course.”

He’s aching hard in his slacks, and Hannah tilts her body towards them, asks, “Can I? Can I try it… with you?”

Her dark hair is pulled back in a braid, little curls at her temple, hands clenched in the hem of her skirt as she looks between them. Castiel presses a heel to the base of his cock. He was expecting Samandriel’s reciprocation, a hand, or even just sitting next to him and rocking against him.

“Yeah, do it Castiel.” Samandriel says.

“Uh,” Castiel unbuttons and unzips his pants, pushing a hand down his briefs, he squeezes himself and looks at Hannah. Pink mouth parting wider as she licks her lips and scoots closer next to Samandriel on the bench.

Daring, she eases to the edge of the bench and reaches out for him, snags his hips and draws him between her legs as her skirt rides up on pale thighs.

“Please.”

Castiel nods, pulls his cock out, hard and red flushed, as she stares at it.

“Just, lick a little, and, um.”

Hannah nods, closes a hand around his cock and squeezes almost too tight but then she’s pressing the pout of her lips against the tip, sweet movie-kisses all closed and gentle, over the head and around and down.

“Open your mouth,” Castiel tells her.

Samandriel watches them, wide eyed.

Hannah nods, opens her lips acquiescing, and waits for Castiel to slide his cock between them. Rocking shallowly into her mouth, the heat-soft hold of it overwhelming, Castiel places one hand against her head, fingers pushing through the silk of her hair. Hannah licks against him, eagerly, moves her hand along the shaft as she does.

“Close your lips.”

Sealing her mouth around him, Hannah looks up at him, apparently deferring.

“Just, like that.”

Rocking forward, only a little, Castiel slides against her tongue and a spike of heat shivers up his spine.

“Oh…”

Toes curling in his shoes, Castiel pushes a little deeper, and a little deeper still, and it takes him by surprise, the sharp sparking pleasure as he comes inside her mouth.

Hannah opens her mouth as he does, letting his release dribble down between parted thighs onto the clay earth bank. Finishing, Castiel pulls back, tucks himself in. Hannah swipes a hand against her messy chin, scrapes it off on the bench.

She slips a hand underneath her skirt. Castiel can see the plain white panties underneath, how her fingers dip underneath them, moving swift and practiced and she slides into herself.

“Can I… what should I do?” Castiel asks.

Samandriel has tucked his feet up, cross legged on the bench.

“No, it’s good,” Hannah says. She leans back against the bench, long arch of her neck tipping back as her braid sways and her mouth is open in the sunlight, breasts pushing out against her shirt, hand moving with a wet noise in rhythm to the breathy sighs she gasps.

Castiel stands exactly where he is, awkward in unfamiliar territory.

Hannah bites her lips, tensing and drawing her legs closed, sighing and relaxing loosely. Her hand hangs still between her thighs.

Moving, Castiel sits on the bench next to Samandriel on the far side, nudges him over. 

“What does it look like?” Samandriel asks.

“What do you mean?” Hannah glances over to him.

“What do you look like?”

Standing, Samandriel shuffles out in front of the two of them and Hannah moves, pulling at her clothes. Castiel watches the sunlight shimmering over the shifting surface of the river. 

“Oh.”

“Is this why you two keep disappearing?” Hannah asks.

“You noticed?”

“I don’t think the adults care,” she scoffs. “They’re too interested in their wine and gossip.”

Castiel flicks at a thick glob of clay on his pants. “You don’t think it’s gross?”

“No.”

He wonders if Hannah will follow them again next time. He doesn’t see her outside of the family reunions, not like he does with Samandriel.

“Hey, take off your shoes,” Samandriel tells them, “I want to play in the stream.”

His pants are already a lost cause, so Castiel doesn’t hesitate to pull his polished shoes off and ball up his socks inside them. Squishing his toes in the wet clay, he rolls his slacks up and wades out into the shallows as Samandriel splashes around trying to catch the water striders, skimming across the slow moving water on long bug legs.

Hannah watches them for a moment, before she takes off her shoes and socks and presses her toes into the clay.

The sun is warm on his skin and the rest of the world beyond their small bubble fades even more distant, so Castiel plays and he laughs and he finds that he is even less alone than he thought.


End file.
